Page 58 of A Knight’s Revenge: The Complete Series

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

JOLIE

D ancing with Zach was every bit as hot as I remembered. Apparently all the time spent in his arms over this last month had done nothing to desensitize me to his wiles, and it only took a few songs before I was officially hot and bothered.

“Mmm, I missed this,” he purred into my ear, his big hands running down my sides and grabbing my hips. “This body is wicked, Princess.”

“Your guests are staring,” I murmured, rubbing up against him and failing to care about the attention on us when I knew I should.

“Surely Andrea has spies that will report back to her how you were groping me on the dance floor in full view of the entire Club instead of dragging me to a dark corner to dispose of me.”

He gripped me tighter. “Nah, my mom thinks I’m honeypotting you into divulging all your secrets.”

I spun in his arms, now staring into his dark eyes as I threw my arms around his neck. “Are you? You gonna seduce me, then throw me to the wolves, Ferrero?”

“No fucking way, Princess,” he growled. “And I intend to prove it to you, starting tonight.”

He grabbed my hand and proceeded to drag me through the clusters of drunken party guests and into the hallway that led to Andrea’s office .

“Where are we?—”

“Shh, baby. Just a little further.”

We hurried down the hall, my hand still tucked snuggly into his, and we stopped in front of a very familiar boring gray door.

“You’re taking me to your torture lair?”

He grinned, excitement dancing in his eyes as he reached into the pocket of his tight-as-fuck jeans and pulled out that familiar bronze key. “Yep. I have a surprise for you.”

He unlocked the door, and we slipped quickly inside.

He turned the deadbolt on the lock before hitting a switch on the wall.

A dim industrial lightbulb buzzed to life above us, lighting our way down the cement staircase, and we soon found ourselves in the cozy little lounge I recognized from my last trip down here.

Zach led me to the big leather couch and motioned for me to sit, then he ambled over to the bar cart in the corner to pour us both a drink.

I ogled his butt in those tight jeans as he went. There was no resisting it.

He prowled back toward me, his booted feet padding quietly across the plush red carpet, and he handed me a glass of bourbon before taking a seat next to me and snuggling up close.

After typing something into his phone, he wrapped a possessive hand around my thigh and looked me in the eyes. “I know we have a lot of other shit going on right now, Princess, but tonight I intend to right some wrongs from last semester.”

“Oh?” The burning curiosity kept my butt rooted to this couch, despite the fact that I was putting an awful lot of trust in Zach by letting him bring me down here alone. “What do you mean?”

His grin was evil, and the loud bang of the basement door being shoved open announced that we had visitors.

Heavy boots clomped down the cement stairs, the sounds of a struggle coming with them.

“What the fuck is this? Let me go, you fucking psychos! I was invited here! I don’t care who you work for, I’ll see you put down for this!”

Not unexpectedly, Frankie emerged into the light of the lounge, dragging a flailing, bleeding man behind him.

Less expected was the fact that he was scowling instead of his usual happy-go-lucky-could-give-two-shits-about-anything demeanor. It was odd, since he usually seemed thrilled to be maiming people in the name of Ferrero.

Then his accomplice stepped into the room wearing a shit-eating grin.

“Max?”

“Hey, Jojo! Look who I found sneaking around upstairs.”

Their struggling captive was Donavan. I hadn’t seen the asshole since I caved his face in with my fists in Lisa’s mom’s office at The Revelry, and it appeared his long respite from school had agreed with him.

His doctors had put his face back together, and he’d even gained a little weight, like he’d spent his days at home getting even bulkier so his next unsuspecting victim wouldn’t stand a chance.

His brown hair and beard were neatly trimmed, and he wore the same dark slacks and gray dress shirt as half the guests, so he would have easily blended into the crowd.

Until someone had given him a black eye and a very bloody nose.

Frankie dropped him unceremoniously onto the middle of the carpet, where he flopped around like a fish, struggling against the zip ties binding his wrists and ankles.

“This,” Frankie said, gesturing angrily at Donavan, “was my pull. I would like to make that clear.”

“You’re both a couple of pretty-boy pussies!” Donavan shouted.

Max kicked the shit out of him, chuckling as Donovan moaned, then he looked at Frankie. “Don’t be a sore loser, Mr. Fingers. I only let you have this piece of shit because you promised to show me your skills .” He purred that last word, and I narrowed my eyes at him.

“Max,” I said, very sweetly. “What the fuck?”

“Yeah, Max ,” Frankie spat. “Max Miller , eighteen-year-old resident of the Southside and adoptive brother to Jolie Knight, not Max No-Last-Name, twenty-one-year-old UCLA student just passing through the City on holiday break—what the fuck ?”

I glanced at Zach, who also appeared to be taken aback by Frankie’s distress as he watched this unfold with wide eyes. He shook his head at me, bewildered.

Max’s grin only got bigger. “You know, you don’t seem happy to see me again.”

“Max,” I growled .

We did not keep secrets from each other, though he had been known to delay informing me of things he knew I would not like.

I certainly would not like him spending time within a mile radius of the City’s most notorious Family Enforcer without me knowing.

So, in short, I was going to kill him if Frankie didn’t.

Frankie glared at Max before he bent to yank Donavan off the floor again to drag him toward the torture section of the basement’s open floor plan. Max grabbed Donavan’s legs, and Frankie’s sour look said he did not appreciate Max’s help.

“Put me the fuck down!”

“Shut up,” Frankie snapped at him.

“I can’t wait to see what Mr. Fingers is gonna do to your balls, asshole,” Max added with a snicker.

“You shut up too.”

“What is going on ?” Zach muttered under his breath. “I have never seen Frankie this agitated.”

“Me neither,” I whispered. “And I once put my knife through his leg.”

We turned to watch over the back of the couch as Frankie and Max strung their captive from the ceiling, both of them expertly ignoring the expletives and homophobic slurs being spewed at them.

Frankie slapped Donavan across the face before he grabbed his bearded chin to give him a reproachful look. “That’s quite enough out of you. I suggest you behave for my nephew and his lady love, or I will come back down here and start my next abstract art project with your insides.”

Donavan roared, yanking on the chains that held his arms aloft and swinging his now freed feet that dangled an inch from the cold cement floor.

Frankie turned to march back into the lounge, ignoring Max as he followed close behind.

Frankie flopped down into the cushy armchair that sat adjacent to the couch, pulling his phone from his pocket.

He began to scroll, still ignoring Max, who smirked at Frankie from where he leaned up against the nearby wall.

Suddenly, a tiny little grin crossed Frankie’s face.

He looked at Zach. “You ready to take it from here?”

“Yep. The Princess and I will handle him.”

“Cool.” He slid his gaze to Max, and a taunting smile appeared on his face. “It appears two of my favorite boys are free this evening, so I’m headed upstairs.”

Max’s cocky smirk slid right off his face, causing Zach to snort out a very satisfied laugh next to me.

“The fuck you are,” Max growled at Frankie.

Frankie’s grin widened. “I’ll see you all later.” He stood up and ambled happily toward the stairs.

“Max, seriously, what the fuck?” I barked at him.

“Not now, Jojo,” he grumbled, then he stalked out after Frankie.

Zach and I sat wordlessly for a minute, the clanking of the chains and Donavan’s grunts the only sounds echoing through the room.

“I don’t even want to know,” Zach finally muttered, standing up and holding out his hand to me. “You ready for your present?”

I took his hand as I got to my feet. “Donavan is my present?”

He led me around the couch and onto the cold cement floor.

“I know you already fucked him up pretty bad, baby girl, but I will not let this rapist scum walk the same hallways as you. I wanted to kill him as soon as I walked into that office last semester, and I’m sorry that I made it seem like I didn’t care what almost happened to you.

Or at least, what we thought almost happened to you before we knew you were so fucking lethal. ”

Donavan scoffed. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Ferrero. You know we all thought she was just some trashy slut from the Southside. You’re lying your ass off, acting like you give a shit now. Everyone thought she deserved what I was going to give her, including you.”

Zach stepped in front of him, eyeing him with disgust. “You really have no sense of self-preservation at all, do you?” Without warning, he reached a strong hand between Donavan’s legs to grip his junk, twisting it violently.

Donavan let out a high-pitched shriek, the sound music to my ears.

“Say one more word to insult my girl, and I’ll cut your tongue out. Frankie Fingers isn’t the only one who knows creative ways to inflict damage to the human body.”

I shivered and not from fear.

Zach turned to look at me over his shoulder, still keeping a vice grip around Donavan’s balls as he hyperventilated. “Say the word, Princess, and I’ll end him. Or I’ll give him to you to do with what you want. ”

I eyed Zach, feeling myself sink into those dark-brown eyes. “What’s this about, Zach? Assuaging your guilt that you guys were dicks to me when you thought I was a nobody who’d only narrowly avoided sexual assault by sheer luck?”